


Domestic Gorillaz Pieces

by daddyzanchez



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Crack, Domestic, Normal Life, Phase Four (Gorillaz), just the band doing every day things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12147003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddyzanchez/pseuds/daddyzanchez
Summary: The thing Stuart is crying about here is something I've cried about.





	1. That One Time Stuart Was Sick

**Author's Note:**

> The thing Stuart is crying about here is something I've cried about.

It was rare that 2D was sick, and that always came as a surprise to people. When you first glanced at his lanky figure, most people would conclude that he did not seem like the type of guy with an amazing immune system. Funnily enough, it came as a surprise to people, even though they knew he had survived several car accidents and comas. 

But when Stuart Pot was sick, he was proper sick. Fevers, pains, cold sweat and talking nonsense. All of this glued together by being an emotional wreck. The band members hated it because he would be totally helpless and in need of constant attention, which they had a system for. No one took on that duty by themselves because it was insufferable at times, so they had eventually agreed to create a schedule. 

He was currently on the sofa, moaning about how sore his nose was and how many times he had blown it. It was pure American Beauty style, but instead of rose petals, it was him lying in a pool of used tissues. 

“D, can you please just clean these up by yourself?” Russel asked as he walked by him, and 2D shook his head. It made Russel sigh.

“No, I can't, my wrists hurt. I think it's the flu’s symptoms,” 2D whined, and snuggled further into his blanket, “Can you turn on the TV?” 

Russel looked for the remote for a moment and found Animal Planet, it was the only thing he wanted to watch when in this state and to be honest, it was the only channel Russel didn't mind that much. He looked at the many used tissues again and sighed even deeper, “Who is on duty anyway? Sure as hell ain't me, and there's no way I'm touching those.” 

“M-muds,” 2D sniffled, “He is out to get soup or somefink, he just said something good for my throat.”

“If I know him, he’s probably coming home with booze of some kind, and there's no way in hell I’m letting him get you drunk while you're high on paracetamol,” Russel replied as he handed him the remote, “I’m gonna have to make you something. What do you want?” 

“Just a peppermint tea,” 2D whined, sounding more and more pathetic. He blew his nose again, throwing it onto the floor and making Noodle cringe as she walked in.

“Ew, I know you're sick but seriously?” She said annoyed, “Where's the rubber gloves?” 

2D looked almost betrayed at that tone of voice, and already started welling up. It made Noodle sigh even deeper than Russel, “I’m sorry, darling. Watch the animal program and I'll get this cleaned up, yeah?” He nodded and Noodle walked to the kitchen to grab a pair of rubber gloves. She looked at Russel, who was tapping a rhythm as he waited for the water to boil, “Isn't Murdoc on duty?” 

“He out looking for liquor, what did you expect from him?” Russel grumbled, fingers still tapping the kitchen table. 

“Well, I’m cleaning up the sofa, he can't lie in his own bacteria,” Noodle said and got a plastic bag as well, “Wish me luck.” 

As Noodle entered the living room again, 2D was mid-sobbing and she furrowed her brow in confusion, “What, Stuart? What's happening?” He pointed to the television where it seemed to be nothing but white. It soon dawned on Noodle that it was a zoomed-out picture of a snow landscape. In the middle sat two wolves, howling. 

“Look, it's the wolves!” He sobbed, “Listen!” The speaker started talking again, mentioning that the mother had died from starvation and now it was the puppies’ responsibility to feed themselves and survive. It would be a tough job. 2D was obviously heartbroken. 

“There, there,” Noodle consoled, running a gloved hand through his sweaty hair, “It's just a TV-show. There's lots of those in the nature.” 

“It's a rare species!” He continued crying. Suddenly, Murdoc burst through the door with two bottles of rum, and Noodle rolled her eyes.

“Speaking of rare species,” she mumbled and luckily, Murdoc didn't hear her.

He walked up to 2D, nudging his shoulder, “What on earth are you crying about? Look what I bought for you.”

2D looked up at him and sniffled, “The wolves are all alone and their mother died of starvation, they will die too!” 

“Just the way nature is,” Noodle said as she continued running her hand over his hair.

“Fuck nature,” 2D said and sank further into the sofa.

“Mate, look I've solved that problem already. Look, rum - just drink it away,” Murdoc said cheerfully, clearly slightly pissed already, and when Russel walked in with the tea, he grinned and pointed at him, “Ah! Just in time, Russ! Let me spice that thing up and he’ll be up and running in no time!” 

“No!” It was an immediate reply from both Noodle and Russel, and Murdoc’s frown clearly showed that he was disappointed. He shrugged, “Yeah whatever.” The frown only turned sourer when Noodle handed him the gloves, and she and Russel left him with a whimpering mess. 


	2. That One Time Russel And Murdoc Argued Over Spaghetti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russel and Murdoc are in a heated argument. Who cooks spaghetti the right way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CRACKFIC CRACKFIC CRACKFIC

“No, Russel, my dear boy,” Murdoc said, patting his back, “We’re doing it my way and that's final.”

“The hell we are, you old man,” Russel retorted, leaning back against the kitchen table. It was clear that Murdoc had been drinking or smoking or whatever. He was slurring slightly and couldn't quite focus on it what was going on. Russel got out a pot and filled it with water, watching Murdoc grabbing the box of spaghetti and chewing on one. 

“My way, I'm the oldest after all,” Murdoc continued, seeming very determined to get his way even though he barely had the ability to do anything himself. 

“I'm not going to go against my own way of cooking spaghetti, Niccals,” Russel rumbled, “How much do you want?” 

“I want half, not broken in half,” Murdoc said sternly, “You are crazy not cooking whole spaghettis.” 

“There are loads of advantages to breaking the spaghetti in halves,” Russel said, “Let me list you a few: It takes less time to cook, it's easier to mix sauce in it and you can use smaller pots.” He showed him by counting on his fingers.

Murdoc scoffed, holding the box upside down to get half of the spaghetti, “You cook it your way and I’ll cook it my way then, possession-boy.” 

“Yours go in first then, mine takes less time to cook,” Russel said as the water slowly started to boil and he put salt in the water. 

“Might take longer but it has a lot more advantages if you eat it whole, breaking it is insane!” Murdoc said after letting the spaghetti into the water. He watched it intensely.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Russel asked, breaking the rest of the box’ contents in halves. He laid it on the kitchen table, waiting for it to be his turn.

“Well, obviously, there's doing the lady and the tramp move,” Murdoc started, “It holds more sauce too as well as being easier to twirl around your fork.”

“Doing the lady and the tramp is unbelievably messy too, sucking spaghetti into your mouth is dirty and you’ll have sauce everywhere.”

“But it's more fun to cook, look,” Murdoc pointed at the pot, “You can watch it descend into the pot after going softer.” 

“You're outta your mind,” Russel laughed, “My arguments are so much better.”

“We'll see,” Murdoc huffed, “Looks like it’s time for your sinful way of cooking spaghetti.”

Russel threw his own portion into the boiling water and leaned back into the kitchen table, “Now we wait, we'll see who’s right.”

“I'm not discussing this with you,” Murdoc looked away.

They both refused to look at each other, one more stubborn than the other. It took seven whole minutes before Russel noticed something was off about their decision. 

“How the hell are we going to separate the spaghettis from the pot?” Russel exclaimed suddenly, looking back at Murdoc. 

“What the hell?” Murdoc raised a brow, “Why are you looking at me like this? It's not my fault!”

“Don't you have a Ph.D.?” Russel said with a roll of his eyes.

“Well not in spaghetti-cooking!” 

“Jesus Christ…”


	3. That One Time The Band Learned About Sleeping Powder (and Murdoc had a hissy fit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc goes insane over the fact that Stuart hasn't told him about making Sleeping Powder - Russel and Noodle tries to save him.

“What the hell is this?!” Murdoc yelled as he barged in through the door to 2D’s room, holding his smartphone in his hand, long nails almost digging into the screen. Behind him, Noodle and Russel were trying to grab at him and stop him.

2D’s eyes widened and he found himself taking several steps backwards until he was hitting the wall, “It’s just a little somefink I mixed together the other day.”

“And you went behind my back with this?” Murdoc continued and Noodle eventually got a hold of his arm, making him screech, “Noodle, get your hands off of me! I have to take care of this!”

“Nah, you do not,” Russel protested, “It’s a good song, D.”

“T-thanks, Russel,” 2D stammered and Murdoc furiously started flapping his arms, phone almost ending on the floor, as Noodle pulled at him.

“Control yourself, Niccals,” Russel said quietly as he helped Noodle with holding him back.

“Yeah, I did the same thing when I was like 15,” Noodle added, letting Russel do the work. She let go, crossing her arms over her chest, “And that was a freaking success. It has 66 million views on YouTube.” 

“Mine has four million,” 2D dared to utter, looking from face to face. He gulped as Murdoc practically growled, looking away from him, “And that's in just four days.”

“You’re getting slow,” Noodle snickered, “You only found out about it today? You've got to be kidding me.” 

Murdoc eventually gave up and wrestled free from Russel's grip. He locked the phone, looking back at 2D, “At least tell me why... and how the hell did you keep this a secret from us?” 

“I-I wrote it the other day, filmed it two days after and then put it up,” 2D explained, finally feeling like he could breathe. He gave a tiny smile, “People think there’s not enough of me on the album so I thought I’d give them a treat.” 

“Oh, fuck them!” Murdoc hissed, having the urge to throw the phone, “Do they not get it? Do they understand nothing about what we are about?” 

“Muds,” Noodle tried, “Calm down.”

“No, I mean it!” Murdoc growled, steering towards the door, “We’ve made collabs since we started and now it is not good enough?”

2D frowned, looking away from them all but Russel and Noodle both came up to him. They rubbed his back, watching Murdoc storm out the door.

“He is right,” Russel said, “But that song is some masterpiece.”

Noodle nodded, “Are you really sitting on a cock in the end?” 

“Sure am,” 2D laughed quietly, “Did you like my dancing?”

“D, you’re the reason people say that white people can’t dance,” Russel mumbled and Noodle snorted, holding a hand over her mouth. 

“Oh, shut it,” 2D pouted.

Noodle laughed harder, hiding her face, “No, but Stu, you honestly look like a white dad at a barbecue.”

“Oi!” 2D exclaimed and now it was Russel’s turn to laugh.


	4. That One Time Murdoc Got In A Bar Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you mess with Noodle? Murdoc Niccals kicks your ass.

The four of them always loved a drink, or if you asked Murdoc, several drinks, after a concert. It was traditional almost, to have a beer or a drink with a funny straw. Normally, they'd go home when Murdoc started falling asleep over the table but something was different today. Murdoc had had various drinks but somehow he was still going, not lying half-awake on the floor, but instead seemed to be on the prowl for a hook-up. 

The rest of them watched him from the table. Luckily, the bar was small and unknown, making them able to be left by themselves. It was their expertise to find these small places.

“Should we go get him?” 2D mumbled into his beer, eyeing Murdoc who was currently leaning against the wall and smiling at a young woman, who was clearly not interested in his way-too-drunk behaviour. It wasn't exactly charming.

“Nah, let him get a slap,” Russel replied and Noodle giggled. They clinked their drinks.

“Cheers to that,” Noodle said and sucked on the straw. She put it down and let out a sigh of content. 

“A guy now?” Russel raised his brows, “Jesus, he is drunk. He barely lets that side out.” 

“He isn't hitting on him,” 2D said, playing with an empty shot glass. It was sticky, making him crinkle his nose, “Look at his face. No charm.” 

Murdoc eventually pointed to their table and the man walked up to them. Murdoc, on the other hand, went back to hunting down the woman from before. 

They eyed the man for a moment, none of them really saying anything until Russel cleared his throat, “Can we help you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the man didn't look at Russel but turned his attention on Noodle instead, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Why?” Noodle said simply.

“Because you look sexy as hell, I'd love to get you home with me,” was the reply, all of them reacting by grimacing.

“Uhh… No thanks, I'm good,” Noodle said, holding up her glass in demonstration, “Look, all full.”

“Oh c’mon,” he continued, leaning onto the table. Noodle scooted away and further in on the bench. She groaned, wondering why the hell she hadn't sat down in the middle of her boys. The man urged on, “Just a shot then?” 

“Dude, she said no,” Russel grumbled and 2D followed him by nodding. The man turned his head to him, looking almost repulsed.

“Is she yours?” He growled and Noodle gasped at that, turning her body away from him.

“Yours?” 2D exclaimed, “She isn't anyone's!” 

The man leaned down over her, “Oh come on, sweetheart. Don't be so boring.” 

“Ew go away, you creep,” Noodle shouted, tempted to throw her alcohol in his eyes.

“Fine, you're fucking ugly anyway,” the man hissed and sudden his shoulder was grabbed. 

“Wha’s going on ‘ere?” Murdoc slurred, looking at the man with utter disgust. He had popped up out of the blue. 

“Just trying to figure out what your lady costs, apparently a drink isn't enough,” he snarled and before he knew it, a fist was flying at him at full force. He fell back onto the floor and Murdoc towered over him. The rest of the band stood very quickly.

“Fucking hell, Murdoc,” 2D said in awe, looking down at the poor sod on the floor. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth, looking bewildered and confused about what had happened. 

“He deserved it, he did,” Murdoc growled, leaning down to pick him up by the collar, “Nobody speaks to Noodle like that.”

Noodle sighed, “Can you not do that? Start a barfight?” 

“I do whatever I want, love,” Murdoc said, dropping him onto the floor again.

Noodle grimaced, “Please don’t call me that.”

“Wha’d you mean?” Murdoc turned to face her but in the next moment, he was pulled down onto the floor and the fight really began.

They wrestled on the floor, Murdoc gaining a possible new fracture to his nose and the man a black eyes, and as Noodle complained and 2D bit his nails, Russel just watched.

It took a few minutes before the owner threw them out, Russel having to carry Murdoc down the street till they found a cab.

“I liked that place, why'd have to get us banned from it?” 2D grumbled, arm around Noodle as they walked.

“Nobody fuckin’ disrespects my girl,” Murdoc slurred, half asleep in Russel's arms. Noodle smiled shyly, leaning into 2D as they walked down the small street.

“You guys are the best, you know that?” Noodle grinned, “My boys.”


	5. That One Time Murdoc Had A Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc is feeling a little down about his body - that is, until Noodle introduces him to the word 'Dad Bod'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a follower who wanted the band comforting Murdoc when he was having some body issues.

It happened from time to time that Murdoc Niccals would stand in front of his mirror, looking at his bags underneath his eyes and the pot belly that struggled to be kept tucked in by his belt. Of course, these things were nothing until he turned to his side and saw the outline of his nose. Why couldn't he just look normal? The wonky bone was awful, making him want to hide himself. Not that he said that to anyone, Murdoc Niccals, world’s best bass player, had a reputation to uphold but it was often painful to come off as confident, and slightly obnoxious about it, in interviews.

Murdoc frowned at the image of himself staring back, pulling up his shirt and patting the extra kilos on his stomach before feeling the outline of his nose. It would be embarrassing to get it fixed, like hell he was going to end up like all those nasty Hollywood-celebrities with fake everything. The nose was his trademark on top of that, it would ruin his style.

He let out a big sigh as he pulled his shirt down again, trying to hide whatever he could and then cleared his throat as if to act like nothing had happened. A cup of tea was a better idea than standing in front of the mirror, 2D always said that a cup of tea could help on anything.

Murdoc entered the kitchen being his usual self, the rest of the band members did not react as he strolled to the kettle. He poured water into it and hummed one of his basslines to himself, Noodle joining him.

“Morning,” Murdoc said into his tea as it was finally done, blowing on the surface, “I know you lot hid the rum, where is it?” He placed his cup on the table.

“It’s in the cupboard on the left,” Noodle mumbled, scooting closer to 2D so she could read the newspaper with him. There was obviously no point in starting an argument.

Murdoc went to get the bottle, kissing it, “This, my friends, is why I am still managing to be around you.” He unscrewed the cap, pouring a good amount in his tea.

Though starting an argument did not seem to bother Russel, who made a low sound and looked up at the bassist, “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” Murdoc whipped around, nearly spilling the cup’s contents all over the floor.

“I mean,” Russel said calmly, “That we’ve got a shoot tomorrow, for that magazine? It was your idea.”

Murdoc froze with his teacup mid-air, looking pale at the thought. He was not ready for that, not right now when he could barely look at himself in the mirror. It was awful, why did the self-hatred have to come back at such an inconvenient time? He cleared his throat and tried to hide how he was slowly turning white as a sheet from the anxiety.

2D was the one to notice, Russel already having gone back to his breakfast, he tilted his head and squinted, “You alright, Murdoc?”

Murdoc snapped out of it, putting down his teacup without having tasted his tea, “What? Me? Yeah, yeah.”

“You look like a ghost!” The singer continued.

“Dents, I'm fine,” Murdoc hissed, his tone clearly stating the opposite. It caused the rest of them to look up from what they were doing. Murdoc felt uncomfortable heat creep up his neck, “What?”

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Noodle asked softly, noticing how Murdoc had pulled his shirt down over his jeans and not tucked it into them. He was clearly trying to hide himself. She let her gaze drop briefly, signaling that she had noticed, and then found his eyes again.

Murdoc gulped but quickly regained his composure, “Me? Nervous? Bollocks!”

“We just asking,” Russel said, “You don’t look well.”

The rest of his bandmates were staring at him, clearly trying to get him to tell the truth, especially Noodle’s stare felt piercing.

“Okay, I might not be having the best day, alright?” Murdoc finally gave in, “I don't feel like doing a photoshoot tomorrow, not when I look like this.” He gestured to himself, Noodle’s stare becoming a raised brow.

“Like yourself?” 2D scratched his chin, clearly not getting it.

“People will think it's the camera adding ten pounds,” Russel snorted, earning a slap to his arm from Noodle.

“Shut up, Russ,” Noodle said with an annoyed glare, getting up from her chair to stand by Murdoc. She looked at him up and down, “Murdoc, it's not exactly as if you have changed your appearance a lot over the years. Why now?”

“I don't know!” Murdoc crossed his arms over his chest. He was pretty certain it was that age-thing, he was, after all, 51 now and not what he used to be. He had practically screamed his head off when he had found a grey hair one day, and after that, every little flaw was becoming more noticeable. He had these days, where everything about himself bothered him and then he had completely opposite days.

“I think you look handsome, Murdoc!” 2D gave a toothless smile, “Right, Noodle?”

“Easy for you to say, you pretty boy,” Murdoc snarled before Noodle could agree with the singer, “You get all the girls, lucky bastard.”

“First of all, Niccals, it's women. All the women, they're not kids,” Noodle said with a scoff, “And you know that's not true. They love your dad-bod.”

“Lord, I didn't have to hear that word being used about our bassist,” Russel groaned, picking up the newspaper had been reading and burying his head in it. 2D snickered, leaning back into his seat whilst Murdoc just looked confused.

“Dad-what?” He asked.

“Dad bod,” Noodle repeated, “It's very in these day, you know, having the body of a dad instead of a rock-hard six pack. Women like a man with, let me think of an obnoxious word you'd use… love handles, yeah, that's it.”

“They do, do they?” Murdoc felt a smirk spread on his face, “They want a bit of this?” He tapped on the front of his shirt.

“Don't flatter yourself,” Russel said from behind the newspaper, “I should be swimming in women if that was true.”

“Don't listen to him, Murdoc,” 2D said, “Noodle is speaking the truth, women do like a bit of a pudge. I've read that on uhh- Buzzfeed.”

“As much as I hate to say it, you've been pretty irresistible to women in all the time I've known you,” Noodle said with a slightly forced smile, “And the photographers are gonna love you tomorrow.”

“You bet your arse, they're gonna love me,” Murdoc smirked, gripping at the hem of his shirt and pulling it off. He could most certainly warm up for tomorrow, there was no way he wasn't taking his shirt off during that shoot. The ladies would love it.

“Murdoc! Why!?” 2D yelped, “Not this again!”

“Oh God, no no no!” Noodle nearly shrieked, holding her hands over her eyes.

“Your tea is getting cold,” Russel rumbled, frowning at the sight before him. He was definitely back to his normal state of mind, a little too comfortable with himself maybe.

“Fine, don't want me?” Murdoc was smug, picking up his tea, “You lot better get used to this, I'm gonna go practice in my room for tomorrow. So long.” He turned on his heel, walking to his room again. There was no shame in posing in front of the mirror, was there?


	6. The One With The Grey Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Noodle walks in on Murdoc Niccals dyeing his grey hairs.

Noodle was on her way down the hallways in the spirithouse. It had taken quite some time to get used to the new place and that was even despite them all being used to traveling the whole damn world when they were on tour. This place, however, had another feel to it, as if something hadn’t quite left the place when the last people had moved. Not that it bothered Noodle in the slightest, no she liked it for some reason and as she searched for the bathroom, still in her nightie, she let her fingers trace the wall and its old wallpaper. 

As she neared the bathroom, she found that the lights were on. It was strange, everyone was usually out cold this time of night (even herself but that last cup of tea - not good for the bladder.) 

“Hey,” she said as she pushed the door open, carefully tip-toeing into the room, “Who is-”

“Shit!” Noodle was interrupted by a noise of surprise, followed by a raspy cough that could only belong to-

The sight before her was a sight for sore eyes and instead of getting yelled at, she was met with green skin turning red. The old dirty man was colouring his hair, the black dye an absolute mess in the sink. 

“Oh my-” she tried to say something productive, something that would fit the situation and calm Murdoc down, but her instincts told her to laugh. And she did, laughed till tears formed at the corners of her eyes because Murdoc Niccals colouring his hair was definitely a secret, she knew he wanted her to keep. 

“Don’t look at me,” he cried, trying his best to manoeuvre himself into the bath and pull the shower curtains to cover himself, “You didn’t see nothing, are we clear?”

While still chuckling, Noodle just pulled the curtain away once again and swallowed to keep herself from laughing. She eyed him up and down, gaze settling on the black colour in his hair and it only caused her to giggle again, “I don’t even know what to say to you, old man.”   

“Oh, bugger off,” he grumbled in the end, stepping out of the tub again and turning back to the mirror to massage the remaining grey roots of his hair. He concentrated, Noodle could tell, as he had his tongue hanging out.

“Sorry,” she said when her breathing had returned to normal, “Hurt your pride, did I?”

“What’ya want me to say? Even the great Murdoc fucking Niccals has to do things to keep up his appearance? Yeah, it’s tough when the world doesn’t recognize that you’re going in to your silver fox years,” he turned, facing her with his lip in a thin line.

“Well,” Noodle began but found that she had no actual response to that. She knew the business; everyone loved an old silver fox, so this had nothing to do with anything but vanity. Instead of telling him to grow out his grey hair and fighting everything in herself to make snarky comment about how certain women would love him with an older look (honestly, setting him off on a speech about how the ladies creamed themselves in his presence was… not worth it), she just smiled, “At least let me help you? I know you think you’re God Given and able to do whatever but you’re making a mess in the sink. It’s disgusting, and I need to pee.”

“Oh, you can use the loo, love,” Murdoc shrugged, “Your old man doesn’t mind.”

“Ew, no,” she wrinkled her nose to stress her disgust, “Let me just help you so I can do my business in private. Face me.”

Murdoc let out a long sigh when he had to follow orders, but Noodle ignored it and washed her hands. She then gently scooped up a bit of the mixed dye in her hand, using the other hand to rub it into his hair, “You know, you really should’ve used gloves for this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, almost resembling a toddler not getting his way. He had his arms crossed over his chest but soon closed his eyes as Noodle massaged his scalp.

Noodle eventually gave in, “You know, Murdoc, you’d look good with a natural look. I’m just saying-”

“Nah,” he cleared his throat, “This- this is better for the band’s image, ya know?”   

“Or maybe you’re just scared to look old,” she teased but immediately felt guilty as Murdoc’s confident expression faltered for just a second. He swallowed thickly but refrained to make a scene.

“Sorry,” Noodle said after a stretch of awkward silence.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone about the old dog ‘ere?” Murdoc winked.

Noodle poked his nose, leaving a small black dot on green skin, “Promise.”    
  



End file.
